


On the way

by junonreactor



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Car Sex, Disabled Character, M/M, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Slight Voyeurism, Trans Character, disabled!Rufus, trans!Rufus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junonreactor/pseuds/junonreactor
Summary: Post-AC. Rufus gets tetchy, but Tseng has it all under control.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Kudos: 29





	On the way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soyna/gifts).



> From a prompt for the lovely Soyna, who wanted Tseng/Rufus in a car. I think Rufus didn't get away as neatly from Diamond Weapon as he likes to let on, and he's trans, of course.

It was a long, dull drive from HQ in Edge to the little nowhere village where the WRO consortium was cutting ribbon on a tidal energy plant – supposedly able to generate 2MW on the area’s uniquely strong tidal bore, a mere fraction of a Mark 4 mako reactor’s output, but it wasn’t polite to say such things, and Rufus had been careful to omit those opinions from his planned remarks, if not his thoughts and private complaints. He had similar thoughts and complaints about the loud, clunky _gasoline_ -powered car he was riding in, which he readily voiced.

Tseng, sitting across from him, gave him a look that on its surface appeared totally impassive, but after two decades Rufus knew meant something like, _I know you’re bored, but would you please shut up_. Though what Tseng actually said, after Rufus rolled his eyes, was “Your leg is hurting you, isn’t it?” 

It was hurting him, though as usual, he was loath to admit it. Sitting still for hours, even in a well-appointed vehicle with plenty of room and the opportunity to unbuckle and lay down if he liked, often caused the pain to flare up, running hot-and-cold from his left knee up along his femur, even radiating in spikes up his lower back as it worsened. Such was fate when one had been blasted by the energy of an enraged Planetary WEAPON and half smashed by a falling ceiling. At least his lower leg didn’t hurt, though that was mostly because the nerve damage prevented him from feeling much of it at all. 

Rufus sneered at his Turk. “So what if it is? Can’t do anything about it.” 

Tseng gave him another look, the _you stubborn brat_ look, and unbuckled himself to come sit next to Rufus, carefully pulling the offending limb up across his lap as Rufus swung his uninjured leg up alongside it. He untied Rufus’s shoes and removed them, folded his socks up and tucked them in their respective shoes, and then reached for Rufus’s belt buckle. 

“You dirty dog,” Rufus breathed. “Taking advantage of me when I can’t escape.” 

It was Tseng’s turn to roll his eyes, a bad habit he often scolded Rufus for inflicting on him. “I was just going to massage your leg. I suppose if you insist on being ‘taken advantage of’, we do still have…” He checked his watch. “More than an hour and a half until we reach the turbine generating plant.” 

“Fucking middle of nowhere,” came the voice from the driver’s seat, through the open partition. “Who the fuck even lives out here? They better have a gas station, yo.” 

“It’s all been arranged,” Tseng assured him. “Eyes on the road, please.” 

“Like I ain’t seen you fucking a thousand times,” Reno muttered. 

Tseng went back to shucking off Rufus’s pants, ignoring the feigned, winking complaints and swatting hands. He massaged the limb up from the numb foot to aching knee, taking care around knotted muscle and scar tissue, and slowly kneaded Rufus’s red-haired thigh, holding his warm hands over loci of pain. Whether it was the warmth, freshly flowing blood, gentle pressure, or just Tseng’s steadfast attention, the prickling, flaring pain did ease somewhat. It also helped that Rufus always got a bit worked up whenever Tseng manhandled him. 

He’d had good money spent on the cock that pointed through the front of his silk boxers. It wasn’t big, especially not compared to the huge thing Tseng had pressed against the back of his thigh, but it was all his and, thank the gods, it had come through Diamond Weapon totally unscathed. Tseng grabbed his collar and dragged him in for a rough kiss as he jerked Rufus off, temporarily stopping up the flow of dirty curses and promises that otherwise spilled, ceaseless, from Rufus’s lips. It never took long to make Rufus come, not half-dressed in a backseat in Tseng’s lap with Tseng’s clothed cock grinding into his ass, with Reno’s eyes flicking occasionally from the road to the rearview mirror. Rufus moaned, half-stifled by the fingers dipping into his mouth, put over the edge by fingers dipping into his hole. He tried to grab Tseng’s cock, wet spot on the front of his trousers where one of them was leaking, but the Turk brushed him off with a look that very clearly said _you wait, you’re getting this later, with compound interest_. 

Tseng tidied them up, wiping off Rufus’s thigh and producing a fresh pair of boxers, helping him back into his trousers and shoes with plenty of time to spare. And now Rufus had something to actually look forward to while he pretended to be impressed by the WRO’s new toy power plant. Rufus snorted, sparing a smile for Tseng’s reflection watching him in the tinted glass of the car window. All arranged, indeed.


End file.
